


Crush

by cultofvaleska



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Ficlet, Fighting, Fluff, Humor, Pet Names, Teasing (A Lot)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cultofvaleska/pseuds/cultofvaleska
Summary: He beckoned her over with two fingers. “Let’s dance,Missy.”“It will be a short dance,Scarface.”
Relationships: Ecco & Jeremiah Valeska, Ecco/Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska & Jerome Valeska
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valeskaduh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valeskaduh/gifts).



“I don’t fight against girls. Forget it.”

“A little sexist of you, don’t you think?”

“I’m a sexist, because I don’t want to hit a girl?”

“You killed our mother!”

“That was different, she deserved it!”

“ _Chicken._ ”

Jerome turned his head in the direction of a young woman who stood opposite him like a soldier; upright posture, both of her hands behind the back, while her facial expression hardly revealed anything about her inner emotional state. Her dark eyes stared into his, ate into his rotten soul. _She was scary._

“Did you just call me a ‘ _chicken_ ’?”

“Yes, you heard me right.” The corner of her lips curled up. Ecco was smirking. It was the first emotion Jerome had caught from her, but it wasn’t a friendly grin, no, it was dripping with mockery and malice.

He clicked his tongue. “I see. So, you’re making fun of me because I don’t want to fight you. _Not smart._ ”

“The last time I fought you, I knocked you out— _with just one punch._ ”

“Two, to be exact. Two punches.”

“Cute, you were counting.”

Jerome snorted. “Besides, the fight wasn’t fair! I have to say that …” He paused.

“Yes?”

“I … I may have underestimated you.”

“Then what’s the problem? Let me guess … now that you know what I’m capable of, you’re _scared_ to enter the fray.”

Jerome growled and stamped his foot on the ground, acting like a child. “That's not true! I am not afraid of you; I just don’t want to hurt you!”

“Ch-ch-ch-chicken.”

Jerome gnashed his teeth as he clenched his fists. “Fine!” He unbuttoned his jacket, — “If you insist on fighting me, I will scratch your tiny back.” — took it off and then threw it to his brother who stood on the right and followed the spectacle. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you, _Missy._ ”

“Go easy on him, Ecco,” Jeremiah commanded.

“No, ignore him.” Jerome objected. “Show me what you’ve got, don’t hold back.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

He beckoned her over with two fingers. “Let’s dance, _Missy._ ”

“It will be a short dance, _Scarface._ ”

Jeremiah sighed. “I will give you three seconds, Jerome.”

At the same time both of them ran towards each other. Jerome raised his hand—about to strike—but missed because Ecco had seen it coming and successfully avoided his impulsive blow. His eyes widened in horror and fascination. The woman moved too fast for him and still managed to look elegant, almost as if she didn’t mind fighting him, _as if she was born for it._

The corner of Ecco’s mouth twitched, it was short, and yet Jerome noticed it before she attacked him. One blow here and there and Jerome suddenly was lying face down on the hard-concrete floor. The young woman sat on top of him, her knees painfully boring into his back, while with one hand she pushed his head further against the ground until his jaw began to hurt and he groaned in agony.

“Well, I guess, I’ve won,” Ecco said in a low, bored voice. Then she quickly climbed off of him.

Jerome cleared his throat, stood up and dusted himself off. “Of course, you did! You won because _I_ let you win.”

“Is that so? What a _real gentleman._ ” She rolled her eyes. The young woman knew he would never admit that a _girl_ had defeated him, so she just walked past him and Jeremiah and took herself outside.

“Damn! She’s a _grenade._ ”

Jeremiah handed his brother the jacket. “She beat you in hand-to-hand combat. You’re just a sore loser.”

Jerome took his jacket, ignored his brother. “Does she like Italian food?”

“I beg your pardon. She beat you up a few seconds ago.”

“Yeah, isn’t that cool? She’s a badass. I like it … _like her._ ”


End file.
